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I think you nailed it for me with having to confront out best selves and their absence. It's why I keep thinking of this George Orwell verse where he cursed his own cynicism upon meeting an idealistic young soldier in Barcelona (hat tip to Hitchens):

For the fly-blown words that make me spew

Still in his ears were holy,

And he was born knowing what I had learned

Out of books and slowly.

Later on he ends:

But the thing I saw in your face

No power can disinherit:

No bomb that ever burst

Shatters the crystal spirit.



And a hat tip to you for sharing this poetry, which so perfectly expresses the feelings some of us have reading about Aaron's life, and seeing his smile in photos.




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